


A Collection of Chumeel and His Crazy Assassin Husband, Cicero

by shigxraki



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Argonians (Elder Scrolls), Chumeel is a Major Top, Cicero is a Softie, Cuddling & Snuggling, Forehead Kisses, Gregor Annoys the Shit Out of Cicero, M/M, Neck Kissing, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sleepy Cuddles, nuzzling, open for requests
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:07:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25479673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shigxraki/pseuds/shigxraki
Summary: This will probably be very slowly updated, but it'll be a collection of stories about Chumeel, my Skyrim character and his husband Cicero. I'm not sure if there will be anything worthy of a mature or explicit rating, but if anyone asks, I'll write some.
Relationships: Cicero/Male Dovahkiin | Dragonborn
Kudos: 16





	A Collection of Chumeel and His Crazy Assassin Husband, Cicero

**Author's Note:**

> Chumeel comes home after being away for a while. Cicero and the kids are excited to see him and Chumeel cuddles him to sleep after finding out that Cicero has a hard time sleeping without him.

Along a beaten dirt road, Arvak, Chumeel’s skeletal horse, galloped past Pinewatch. Chumeel hadn't visited his home, Lakeview Manor, in weeks, maybe even months, despite building it himself and having his family live there. As he approached the manor, he halted Arvak and hopped off his back, watching him unconjure himself, presumably going back to the Soul Cairn to be with his true owner. 

Chumeel didn’t dare ride Arvak too close to his home out of fear that he would startle his children, even if one had performed The Black Sacrament and the other watched numerous crimes being committed on the streets of Whiterun before being adopted. You can never be too careful. His tail waved side to side in the cool air in pure joy at the thought of seeing his husband after so long, hoping his steward was successful at keeping Cicero from killing anything or anyone. He spotted the roof of his manor and the smoke from the smelter, puffing out in big black clouds. 

“My Thane! Welcome home!” Gregor, the housecarl given to Chumeel by the Jarl of Dawnstar, called out from the garden. “I followed your orders to keep Cicero out of trouble, he is quite the challenge. How did you manage to get him in the Temple of Mara with a tongue like his? All he ever does is talk about killing people.”

“I wonder the same thing, Gregor. Are the kids around?” The sun was beginning to set, casting a beautiful mixture of warm colors across the sky. 

Gregor stepped out of the garden, wiping his dirt-covered hands on his worn-out pants. “I think they’re in the library with that mudcrab you let them keep. Cicero is in the armory, he’s shockingly stable with a blade for being completely engulfed with madness.” He had muttered the last part, but the Dragonborn’s Argonian ears, or lack thereof, were very keen.

That quiet comment pushed the wrong button on Chumeel, “Gregor, watch your tongue. That is my husband you’re talking about. He may be a mad man, but he’s my mad man.” Gregor tensed up a bit, not expecting his Thane to be so on edge, though he should have expected it.

“Right, my Thane, I apologize, it will not happen again.” Gregor let out quickly, hoping the Dragonborn wouldn’t shout him off a cliff, quite literally.

“Likewise, anyway, Cicero and the kids are inside, you said?” Gregor nodded, “I’m going to head inside to surprise them, you can go back to whatever it was that you were doing before I arrived.” Gregor wandered back over to the garden while Chumeel prepared himself to go into his manor. He opened the front door quietly so as to not spook his family. He snuck closer to the armory’s door, hearing soft giggles and chattering. He decided that it would be better to visit Cicero first so they could have alone time without the kids bothering them.

Cicero was talking to himself again, “...need to sharpen my blade... make it shiny, gleamy, and oh so deadly…” He seemed crazier than normal, perhaps the kids were getting on his nerves, or maybe Gregor was. Chumeel gently knocked on the armory door, not wanting to startle Cicero too badly, he was around weapons after all. “Gah! Blasted steward! What do you want now?! Poor Cicero has had enough of making apple dumplings for you, learn how to make it yourself, you milk drinker!” There was the sound of metal clanging against the stone floor, then the door swung open. The mad man stared in shock at the tall, scarred Argonian in front of him that he had thought was Gregor. 

“Oh! Listener! Hehehe, you’re back! Oh, how poor Cicero missed you! That damnedest steward of yours was truly beginning to get on my nerves… not that I would bring any harm upon him! Certainly not… certainly. Hehehe, how were your travels, Listener?” Chumeel could help but find the jester’s ramblings adorable, he married the mad man after all, so there was no need to feel bad for thinking so.

“My travels were great, Cicero.” He reached to touch his jester’s face, dragging a claw along his jawline, “I have lots of new scars for you to count if such a thing interests you.” His tail lightly swayed side to side, twitching every now and again out of the excitement of being home. Cicero looked to the side out of embarrassment, grabbing at the ends of his shirt.

“Cicero has been so lonely without the Listener. Sleep has become as rare as a flawless gem!” He shuffled closer to the Dragonborn, moving his hands to feel all the ridges and patterns on Chumeel’s nightingale armor. 

“Ah? Has it? Well if you’d allow me then I could help you get some much needed shut-eye, what say you?” Chumeel spoke against Cicero’s forehead before planting several kisses in said spot. 

Cicero responded by letting go and running behind Chumeel, throwing himself onto Chumeel’s back, “Well, off to the beds! The Listener is so kind as to help poor Cicero, hehehe!” Sighing as Cicero called him ‘Listener’ yet again, Chumeel trudged out of the armory with the madman on his back. All of his quests and travels around the whole of Skyrim had made him incredibly strong, with every scale he lost, a new level of strength was reached. 

Cicero, on the other hand, rarely left the surrounding area of the manor. Though he wasn’t scared of anything, he was a very well trained assassin, having a bit over 15 years of murderous experience under his jester themed belt.

Once Chumeel had clamored his way up the stairs to the beds, he leaned back and let go of Cicero, causing him to fall onto the bed.

“Listener! Please warn Cicero next time!” Cicero called out, sitting up in the bed and eyeing up the Dragonborn as he shed his armor.

“Eh? Oh, sorry little man. Won’t happen again, promise.” Chumeel punctuated his reply with a wink. Cicero went red, whether it was out of embarrassment, annoyance, or both was unclear.

“Little man?! Listener, please! Enough with the talking and the words and this and the that!” Cicero was pouting, Chumeel loved it when he got like that. Chumeel turned to face Cicero and began walking towards the bed, contemplating whether he should pick Cicero up again and bodyslam him into the bed or if he should just climb in and smother him to death. 

Deciding that he didn’t want to waste a healing potion on Cicero, he flopped onto the bed and snaked his arms arm Cicero’s waist. He leaned down to plant soft kisses to the back of his madman’s neck. He nuzzled his scaley muzzle into Cicero’s neck, earning a light purr of happiness to fill the room. 

Cicero was the first to nod off, lightly snoring in Chumeel’s arms. Chumeel soon followed suit.

**Author's Note:**

> I take requests, so if you wanna see them do anything then leave a comment and I'll write it when I have time!


End file.
